


You Made Me Like This

by thisisashittyusername



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 05:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisashittyusername/pseuds/thisisashittyusername
Summary: Rick ponders some things about himself.





	You Made Me Like This

"You'd- you'd do best to just avoid me, _Morty_ , if I'm breaking your fffucking- **EURH-**  
heart, so much," Rick says, actually scoffs as he tips his head back to take a good  
swallow from his flask.

"I- I've had it, Rick!" his grandson all but screams. "Y-you would've let me break more  
than my heart j-just now! You wo-would've let it _e-e-eat me_!" Morty's panting  
heavily, as he had just come from running through the green portal. It had collapsed  
midway through the frog creature; its slimy digits were still around Morty's ankle,  
twitching.

"Stop whining, you sound like a bitch."

"R-rick, I've had it!" Morty says again, and Rick rolls his eyes. Apparently his grandson  
was dumb enough to repeat the same shit all the time. "Y-you only care about y-  
your-fucking-self! I'm- _I'm done with you!_ "

And that was the cue. The cue to sweet talk his darling boy to doing his bidding.

Morty was sheep. He was dumb enough to string along to anything Rick wanted as  
long as every adventure promised a world-shattering, mind-blowing, and- dare-  
Rick-say, almost orgasmic- realization of the universe. And with everything Rick knew  
beyond Morty's knowledge, as well as Morty's blind but loyal adherence to  
everything taught to him in just one single world among all other worlds, Rick might  
as well had been breathing just as much as Morty orgasmed.

(And Rick knew just as good how to make that happen. Hell, he could make Morty  
come without even touching him. Morty would've fucking creamed one time, just  
stepping into "true level" ground.)

It wouldn't have been so mean how he saw his grandson, given the massive  
superiority complex Rick had. Morty had his endearing moments. He was definitely  
someone to care for, to protect, to love (that is, whatever Rick thought "love" was. It  
was definitely not anything up to the standard but it was his definition and he was  
going with it). He would've never said he'd die for Morty, but when the situation  
called for it (and it did, many times), he actually almost did. It scared him sometimes  
how "loving" Morty was; like it was something that ran faster than the blood in his  
veins, or deeper than his heart, buried in bone and blood and tissue and skin and  
veins and hair and, metaphorically, booze. Even worse, it wasn't something any of his  
creations could ever get rid of. He could reprogram his Butterbot to snap his heart  
out of its fleshy connections. He could create a Cronenberg that would've killed him  
in one single step. This- Morty- was somewhere deep, deep inside him he could  
never get to remove.

But such a devotion was boring, at most. It was such a one-dimensional expression  
of "love". It always had to be replaced, made new: explored. Fluffy, spoon-feeding,  
hand-on-shoulder love wouldn't have cut it for him. He wanted Morty in every  
possible way: he wanted Morty's scream, and his terror, and his fears, and his skin,  
and his smell- Rick wanted to choke Morty and see him gasp and turn blue. Rick  
wanted to rip the hair out of Morty's scalp. Rick wanted to be buried in everything  
Morty was, and in everything Morty will be. He wanted Morty's life in his hands, no  
matter how wrinkled, and irresponsible, and dead those hands were. It was "love", no  
matter how flawed- and he believed to a certain extent that this esteemed emotion  
was beyond good or evil, _sane or insane._

Rick would scare himself sometimes, however. With the thought that maybe he  
didn't love Morty. Maybe he never loved anyone. A free pass for "love" was kind of  
cliche, and corny, but it was a code he believed in- that's what he thought when he  
stepped into the Church doors, ready to marry Diane and face the future with her,  
hand in hand. That's exactly what he thought when he left Summer and Morty for  
Unity and all her 200 bodies. But both didn't work out.

Maybe he didn't love them enough. Maybe he wasn't loving Morty enough now.  
Maybe Morty would end up just like them, like his girls, disintegrated or assimilated,  
and somehow the thought legitimately scares him because Morty would've just let it  
happen, despite what he said or what he did. Maybe Rick had no heart in the first  
place. "Somehow, you're better off alone," Summer had played from one of her emo  
21st century music playlists, and he downloads that song immediately after mainly  
because he feels as thought it was made for him. What if Rick didn't have a heart,  
and every true heart he'd broken before was something he excused because he  
thought he deserved just as much as they did?

He thinks back to Unity- how he'd slotted his head right into the disintegration  
console, ready to fucking end it all. He thinks to how lonely, utterly lonely he was in a  
house full of life.

So maybe he did have a heart.

But maybe his love was wrong. (And Rick can probably agree to this more.) Maybe  
fluffy, spoon-feeding, hand-on-shoulder love was all love was supposed to be, and  
not any more. Maybe he didn't love them. Maybe every corruption he'd incited was  
out of his crippling, blatant loneliness, maybe he wanted someone to hang and cling  
onto his every word like a lifeline just to feel a little less unneeded in the vast  
expanse of the coincidental universe. But maybe the love they gave and the trust  
they just handed over easier than car keys from his father made him feel just a little  
more dull.

He looks at Morty, still upset, still red, still shaking from the breaths he took. He's  
beautiful like this, somehow- wrecked, and upset, but still waiting. For Rick. He  
would've said everything, would've formed words to cut at Rick's ego, would've  
screamed, "I never want you back," but love was a psychological construct he wasn't  
enlightened enough to elevate himself from. Not yet. (He wasn't destroyed enough  
yet.)

Rick looks right at Morty's eyes. Smart as he was, he knew exactly what to do for this  
to become the validated kind of love. The right kind of love. And it would have  
started right now, if Rick let the sweet talking go, let Morty run up the stairs in anger,  
let Morty see his worth despite everything Rick shoves at his face, and let Morty  
move on in his life without Rick, without their stupid adventures, and their stupid,  
lopsided, drunk smiles, and the muffled sounds at 2 am, legs spread high in the air...

Rick knew how much of an irreversible fuck-up he already was. If Rick loved Morty,  
he'd let him go. He'd stop every instance he'd be given to destroy his grandson any  
further.

Rick smiles instead, and leans into Morty slowly. "Are you done with me?" he says,  
bitingly, but sweet enough to sound teasing. It's a tone that fucks Morty up, he  
knows. "But you were so brave out there. My li- my hero- **EURH** \- you were such a  
good boy, you were _so good_ for me."

And just like always, Morty leans back into him.

Rick is numb and he feels nothing, a psychopath in every possible way, despite the  
sharp angles and the addicting smile and the attractive voice (or so he's been told),  
and somehow it's Morty that makes it so.

 

_You made me like this._


End file.
